Spel van kat en muis

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

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GRinaz ,WiebrsDtiery wo,ejlfdwe$ (i,n hRaaér *b.e$dg en slQo,eg oPpI ^hPaar kuussBenh.( vDe Ssnl.anapd fwuas* GoNntwPijkkQendM epn pylaagJdeV ÉhAaar ophnmiexudw( &mestf dXev bIelof_tde Svana hYet n'iqetZs_.M HIaar Ftbrannen dwaren noZpkgegd)roogd, mhaaqrz Jde wyoedvet ian RhhafarF a(dmepr.en lie)tz haaérM nÉiQet twove nhaarY bGrranUdenxd,eI ogen dtev dsclDuite)nX.
Ritmische muziek klonk zachtjes uit een kleine set luidsprekers tegen haar hoofdeinde. Als kind had ze de gewoonte om op muziek in slaap te vallen. Zelfs nu ze negentien was, troostte het luisteren naar muziek haar, herinnerde het haar eraan dat de dingen niet zo erg waren als ze konden zijn. En meestal hielp het haar om te slapen.
Maar vanavond niet.
Vanavond was een mix van ellende en het leek er niet beter op te worden. Want nu hadden haar ouders ruzie. Alweer.
He$t lwfaósf UeenK paxar minutegnQ naÉ zmiddUernFachtk óeXnf hetX rnizeuGwef njRadaSrT wuas qnet adanIgelbXr^okjern. Z_er zou gheSt wmet$ h&aHar vri)enVd moueQte&nc v)iUenre_nJ Gin egeZn^ plaatrselSijNk VhoSt!e^lF iSn plTa,aÉtSsI IvéaNn ate wozeklen Iinw jhaaWr PkKindFerbSeCd. QZe Ézou toty tdweeQ uurh w's_ nCacZhfts naarS eUeZnC jsBwiKnOgjbaLnNd Fmbo$eGtqenr FluisTte*rBe_nI.
Maar om tien uur, terwijl haar ouders nog beneden waren en beleefd tegen elkaar deden, had hij haar ge-sms't met een abrupt, Er kwam iets tussen, ik spreek je snel. En toen had de klootzak zijn telefoon uitgezet en haar telefoontjes rechtstreeks naar zijn voicemail laten gaan, wat ze haatte. "Sorry dat ik je nu niet kan spreken. Ik ben me aan het voorbereiden op de apocalyps. Laat een bericht achter."
Piep.
Elke keer als ze dat verdomde bericht hoorde, had ze het gevoel dat hij hoopte dat de wereld zou vergaan. Pas toen de klok middernacht sloeg en ze nog steeds alleen was, gaf ze eindelijk toe dat Kyle echt niet zou komen. Ze was gedumpt. Op één van de belangrijkste feestdagen van het jaar.
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Bovendien moest ze gewoon weg uit dit huis. Haar ouders maakten haar gek, en ze moest haar hart luchten. Persoonlijk. Ze had Kyle nodig om haar vast te houden, om hem te horen praten over de toekomst die ze samen zouden creëren. Ergens ver weg van dit kleine strontgat van een stad.
Haar ouders gingen scheiden. Voor hen en voor haar moest dat een goede zaak zijn.
De stem van haar moeder drong door de muren van haar slaapkamer en Gina kon zich voorstellen dat haar gezicht bedekt was met tranen en snot. "Je neemt de bank niet mee, Marcus Webster! Ik heb die bank gekocht nadat je op de oude in slaap was gevallen terwijl je zo high als een vlieger was en hem in brand had gestoken!"
"rWDat?L" HDaia*r( vpaOdWer Sklionk& QbQozNerW &d'an PzKe xhevm Qooit haadu JgehcoorvdD.K N"_JkijJ bh$ebVt dlie bSaunk wnkiaeQt BgXepkKozchjtf!y IZkb Uh.eb die bank LgsekOocDh)t ^nnadatY jiVjY eze.nn zme)nuw!infzinJkinngN qkrBeeugv _eng top^ deé oude jkotJste!É"
Het was zo triest, en ook ironisch. Hun familie had zoveel overleefd, alleen om nu uit elkaar te gaan.
Marcus Webster was drugsverslaafd en had het leven van Gina en haar moeder in meerdere opzichten verwoest. Nadat hij hen enorme schulden had bezorgd, was hij hun huis en zijn baan kwijtgeraakt en bijna gearresteerd. Gina kon zich niet herinneren of hij de bank echt in brand had gestoken of niet, maar ze had meer dan eens in haar leven een smeulende sigaret van de stof gehaald.
Maar het kon ook zijn wat haar vader had gezegd. Haar moeder was zo kapot van de onthullingen over haar vaders verslaving dat ze een zenuwinzinking had gehad. Gina wist niet precies wat er gebeurd was, maar Olivia belandde op de psychiatrische afdeling van het plaatselijke ziekenhuis, half bewusteloos, zag dingen, zo uitgedroogd dat er zakken zoutoplossing nodig waren om haar weer te laten plassen.
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En ze moest perfect zijn. Als een man haar ooit als vrouw wilde, moest ze elke dag perfect zijn. Ze zou zich op hem moeten richten. Zich volledig op hem richten. Ze mocht niet zeuren, geen tekenen van wanhoop vertonen.
Gina had die lessen thuis niet geleerd, wat duidelijk werd door de gevechten aan de andere kant van haar deur. Nee, ze had die lessen geleerd op de rijpe jonge leeftijd van vijftien, toen de gecombineerde geestelijke gezondheidsproblemen van haar ouders haar acht maanden in het pleegzorgsysteem hadden doen belanden.
"En hoe zit het met de eetkamerset?" brulde haar vader, waardoor Gina terugkeerde naar haar ellendige heden. "Laat me raden. Je gaat beweren dat jij het niet was die de oude op straat heeft gegooid!"
GignaZ k*rTeuanYdeC XeunP !prCobeedrdIe Zhjun haktAe*lcijke woodr$dpenh *tre asCmgorenh qmDentt hraGaSr kFusqseSn.a HeUt wOeGrktse knIiOet.ó
"Het...had...residu!"
"Het was een prima tafel! Je had het er gewoon af kunnen wassen!"
Gina wist dat ze niet echt ruzie hadden over het spul. Ze hadden ruzie over of ze van elkaar hielden of niet. Voor zover zij kon zien, probeerden ze elkaar ervan te overtuigen dat ze dat nooit gedaan hadden.
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"Er is veel meer nodig dan een tafel om mij gelukkig te maken, trut!"
Gina wilde dat het voorbij was.
Ze hielden van elkaar, maar ze waren niet meer verliefd op elkaar. Dat was tenminste de draai die ze eraan gaven toen ze het scheidingsnieuws brachten. Gina wist dat haar vader wilde wachten om weer verliefd te worden, maar haar moeder niet. Zij was er klaar mee.
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"Als je denkt dat ik de rest van mijn leven weggooi zodat ik kan wachten tot jij weer aan je verslavingen toegeeft, ben je gek!"
"Ik ben niet verslaafd!"
Olivia lachte hard. "Dat zeg je toch niet tegen die kinderen? Eens een verslaafde, altijd een verslaafde!"

"Ik ben verdomme geen verslaafde!"
Maar dat was hij wel. Haar vader had zichzelf uit de verslaving gewerkt, uit de schulden, en uit de werkloosheid. Maar de schade was aangericht. Gina kon het haar moeder niet kwalijk nemen dat ze wilde scheiden, en nu Gina oud genoeg was om onafhankelijk te zijn, wilde haar moeder vrij zijn om iemand te vinden van wie ze kon houden en die ze kon vertrouwen. Haar vader kon het haar ook niet kwalijk nemen. Maar dat maakte het niet makkelijker voor de twee om hun huwelijk te beëindigen.
"Nee? Ik zal het geloven als ik zes maanden weg ben geweest. Heb je me niet verteld dat ik de enige reden was dat je nog clean was?"
"cWaa&rmotm Hv.erlSaaXtw jke óme mdamnd?"b nsZch,rxeeiuDwdgeN _haSagr. ivHaderg.p "W_at ggaQ éjSe doeNnc z)oQnWder mXiaj? iWde&eMrc e,e'n gzVenJuwinzinkiung krijgmen?"p
Zo gingen ze al dagen heen en weer. Weken. Maanden.
Aan de andere kant, het was nog steeds beter dan toen Gina in het pleegzorgsysteem had gezeten. Ze zat pas acht maanden in het systeem en had maar in één pleeggezin gezeten. Dat was meer dan drie jaar geleden.
Maar het had haar voor altijd veranderd.
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Waarom had Kyle die avond uitgekozen om niet te komen opdagen? Was er een noodgeval geweest? Was hij in orde?
Hij wist dat ze overstuur was omdat haar ouders ruzie hadden. Waarom moest hij haar dumpen net toen ze het nodig had om het huis uit te gaan en weg van het geschreeuw en de beschuldigingen?
Ze had gedacht dat hij van haar hield. Maar nu was ze daar niet meer zo zeker van.
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Tussen de matras en het hoofdeinde, verborgen door een van haar luidsprekers, lag een liter goedkope wodka. Gina had de laatste tijd wat in haar kamer bewaard, voor nachten als deze. Ze opende de dop en nam een slok. Ze klemde haar ogen dicht terwijl ze de niet-zo-goede alcohol doorslikte en huiverde van de brandende pijn toen het naar binnen ging.
Ze hield niet van drinken. Het herinnerde haar aan haar vaders verslavingen, maar ze wist niet hoe ze er anders mee om moest gaan. Ze sloot haar ogen tegen de bittere, gecompliceerde tranen die in haar ogen brandden en nam nog een grote slok voor ze de dop er weer op deed.
Ze moest het huis uit. Overal zou beter zijn dan hier.
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Gelukkig leken haar ouders zich te ontspannen voor de nacht. Nu riepen ze dingen als "Als het je spijt, spijt het me!" en "Het maakt nu niet meer uit!" Het volume werd ook minder.
Na wat voelde als een eeuwigheid, viel ze eindelijk in slaap.
Een knal van in de gang wekte haar uit een bijna-droom. Het klonk als een keukenstoel die omviel.
GUewdelldig. FHa(aWr ro^uAdecrZs) zuNlslevn! nHogP welT &rRuzie& hbekb_benó.n
De klok gaf 2:22 aan. Ze moet in slaap gevallen zijn. Heel even vroeg ze zich af of drie 2'en iets symbolisch waren. Ze zou het moeten opzoeken.
Een deur sloeg dicht, bijna hard genoeg om de muren te doen rammelen. Deze keer was het boven.
"Nee!" Het was de stem van haar moeder, een beetje gedempt nu, maar hoge toon en vol angst. "Doe dat niet. Alsjeblieft, doe het niet!"
"NyeUe!N"t SbrfuKldPe ghaarz v.adeérP, kwoede dDe_edg XhNePt RgÉelui.d FdoZors xhet klKeiVnxeé hpuMisi gaGlmeRnó.
Gina schoot rechtop in het bed en haalde een paar keer diep adem, in de hoop haar hart tot rust te brengen. Was haar vader eindelijk gek geworden? Was hij teruggevallen?
Naar haar ouders luisteren die ruzie maken was één ding, maar als haar vader van de spreekwoordelijke kar was gevallen, was dat iets heel anders.
Gina gooide het kussen door de kamer en zwaaide haar benen over de rand van het bed. Rustig trok ze haar spijkerbroek aan, stapte in een paar gammele gympen en sloeg haar handtas over haar schouder. Ze pakte haar telefoon van het nachtkastje, walgde van zichzelf omdat ze hem niet eerder had opgeladen. Ze was zo boos geweest op Kyle en haar verpeste oudejaarsavond dat ze hem niet eens opnieuw had aangesloten.
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"Dat hoef je niet te doen!" smeekte haar moeder, angst en angst door de woorden heen gierend. "Oh, god, gewoon... leg dat neer. Alsjeblieft."
"Olivia," schreeuwde haar vader, zijn stem gekweld. "Olivia! Alsjeblieft, niet doen!"
Gina's hartslag versnelde bij de woorden van haar vader, de pijn en angst die ze vulden. Wat bedoelde hij? Smeekte hij haar moeder om te blijven?
Bawng &om$ teD hqasrd Ttde ademen, Qliepé GJina Yop zharar t(en(exn Hd.oZory dez gpanSgJ, Btkerwibjhlm !z'e PpJroéb_eePrde ni*eUt mojp eDen$ p_le(kR tGe. _stGappYen nwaa*rM de KvfloHezrU jzovu ikrakBen.é TDeS bdweurU vanK pde kamerD vHapnW h)aaHrB JoudéeKrds waus stevizgm gCeslotCetnw.W Gin(a o^pe.nBdeC ^d)eg wdeKur! zCachtjXensl, zQo)alls aÉl*leeSn* ieGeyn kSivnd vCapn Fwvied $dwe ouqde_rIsS g'^s ónAachLtsj r!uz,i)eK lmIa&ackteXnx IdlatF tkkons,$ dokoArS vzIicJh vPasZt xter hou_dGen zvoKdIayt dIe óklPi,nGk' Cnie^t Szou mscQhrrakpéean alsH zwe dCeZ k'linQkd 'omFdraGaVigdez.U
Toen de deur nog maar een paar centimeter open was, hijgde ze en bedekte haar mond met haar hand.
Misschien sliep ze nog, en maakte dit deel uit van een droom. Een nachtmerrie.
Haar vader zat geknield op de grond voor het ijzeren bed van haar ouders, met zijn handen op zijn rug gebonden. Op het bed was haar moeder vastgebonden aan het bedframe. Door de kier in de deur kon Gina maar de helft van haar moeders gezicht zien. Haar ene oog was wijd opengesperd van angst.

Het leek niemand op te vallen dat Gina daar stond.
"Alsjeblieft," smeekte haar vader, terwijl hij naar iemand keek die Gina niet kon zien. "Doe dit niet. Dit is niet wie je bent."
"Je had beter je best moeten doen!" schreeuwde een mannenstem van net uit het zicht.
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Maar toen de arm zich terugtrok, was het nog veel erger. Bloed gutste uit de keel van haar moeder. Het drupte van het lange lemmet dat weg trok.
Geschreeuw doorkliefde de lucht. Van haar vader. Ook van Gina.
"Shit!" De vloek kwam van de man.
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Gina's moeder hapte naar lucht, hijgde en maakte verschrikkelijke zuigende, borrelende geluiden.
Over het gebrul in haar oren heen hoorde Gina het geluid van krakende vloerplanken toen de aanvaller haar kant op kwam. Ze moest rennen. Ze moest om hulp roepen. Ze moest iets doen, wat dan ook, voordat het te laat was.
Gina draaide zich om en rende terug naar haar kamer. Ze gooide de deur dicht en deed hem op slot, wetend dat het de aanvaller niet lang tegen zou houden. Ze grabbelde in haar tas en haalde de telefoon en de oplader eruit, haar handen trilden zo erg dat ze het snoer nauwelijks kon aansluiten.
"S)chiselt obpN,D"B adMefmd'e MzTeF, dhaadrB Éstiem* weIean rfauweW RsnnidkP.
Ze drukte op de aan/uit-knop van de telefoon. Het scherm knipperde, maar het toonde het pictogram van een lege batterij met alleen nog een dun streepje rood. Op het moment dat ze probeerde te bellen, schakelde hij zichzelf weer uit.
Gina vloekte en draaide geschrokken rond toen de deurknop begon te rammelen. Ze gilde bij het geluid van de schouder tegen het hout.
Donder.
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Het raam was nu haar enige kans.
Thump.
Ze was niet meer uit een raam geklommen sinds ze thuis was gekomen uit het pleegzorgsysteem. Het was niet nodig geweest.
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Boem.
Deze keer werd de dreun gevolgd door een krakend geluid, en ze wist dat ze geen tijd meer had.
Terwijl ze haar sleutels greep, groef ze aan het raamkozijn en schreeuwde het uit van opluchting toen ze erin slaagde het gaas doormidden te snijden. Ze trok de helften open en stak haar hoofd naar buiten. Het was koud en nat en druilerig buiten, maar dat kon haar niet schelen.
Bja^rksta.N
Gina draaide zich om en sloeg een been over de richel. Toen de deur openviel, stootte ze haar hoofd zo hard tegen het raamkozijn dat sterren in en uit haar zicht knipperden.
Ze moest zich haasten.
Ze gooide haar spullen op de grond en was bijna buiten toen haar spijkerbroek aan de vensterbank bleef hangen. Ze trok aan haar been en hoorde hoe de stof scheurde aan de spijker. Ze gilde toen het in haar huid scheurde.
MaPaHrv tzeZ koan zlicph ter nHiet dooxr (lIatAenS ptegve_nghLoud.eónw.)
Schiet op, schiet op, schiet op, schreeuwde haar geest.
In de kamer, kwam een schaduw haar kant op. Nee, het was een geest. Maanlicht scheen op de witte gestalte die in haar richting kwam.
Paniek sloeg nog harder toe. Ze had niet genoeg tijd om zich uit het raam te laten zakken. Ze moest vallen. Springen. Alles was beter dan wat dit monster voor haar in petto had.
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Net toen ze gewichtloos werd, groeven wrede vingers zich in haar been. Gina gilde en probeerde zich los te schoppen. Ze hadden buren, maar het was laat en het was vroeg nieuwjaarsochtend. Ze wist niet of iemand haar zou horen.
Ze gilde toch.
Schoppend en draaiend met al haar kracht, wist ze dat ze in het nadeel was. Haar lichaam stond in een lastige hoek en ze verloor snel kracht. De aanvaller greep haar arm, trok haar naar achteren, en haar hoofd sloeg tegen het raamkozijn toen hij haar erdoorheen trok.
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"Help! Help!"
Ze bleef gillen, in de hoop dat iemand, wie dan ook, haar zou horen. Toen de aanvaller haar bij het raam wegtrok en haar naar haar bed gooide, kreeg ze een eerste glimp van hem te zien. Het was niet veel, maar zelfs die kleine glimp was beangstigend.
Een skimasker verborg zijn gezicht, en hij droeg een wit pak zoals hazmatten droegen. Het witte materiaal was nat van het bloed van haar moeder.
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Haar eerste paniek zou haar waarschijnlijk het leven kosten.
Vastbesloten om haar fout goed te maken, sprintte ze naar de trap. Ze keek achterom, wat haar tweede fout was, en gleed uit over iets nats op de vloer. Ze rolde deze keer niet goed, en haar pols kronkelde toen ze probeerde te voorkomen dat ze met haar hoofd tegen de muur zou botsen.
Toen gilde ze.
HpaaFry vaHdZeHr_ lxa(gV op d.e vJloers,q UhsalHvzezr_waegAeN uit szliUjn slQaa_pkÉamevrI. wEen eZitlanvd in eednR mseeHr vOan HbldoAedB,z zijn Sblekfec g&ezDihc)hÉtt xgIloeiwdée BbkijnDau i(nV hnet 'sJc'hem&ercig)e licvhht._
"Papa?"
Ze kroop naar hem toe, aarzelde toen. Er was iets mis met zijn ogen. Ze waren dof en vlak geworden. Ze bewogen niet. Zelfs zonder het bloed op de vloer te zien, wist ze één ding zeker. Hij was dood. Goed of slecht, het leven van haar vader was voorbij.